losing time
by underthestarlights
Summary: Set before 4x10. Mellie attends a gala with Fitz. Early into the night, they're surprised with unwanted visitors. Mellie, Olivia and Abby are forced to deal with the sudden change of events, high stakes and their emotions.
1. Chapter 1

Mellie fixed her deep red dress as the presidential car slowed to a stop in front of the building. A big white banner hung in the entrance to the gala. She fiddles with her pearl necklace, not ready to put on her first lady mask just yet. She and Fitz yet again had a heated argument before they left; words were exchanged, hearts were stung. She wasn't sure which words hurt her the most, but those words blanketed around her chest in a fashion that she almost couldn't breathe. She didn't know what was wrong with her, she could usually shake them off a while before she had to speak in an important dinner or appear at a national convention. But today, the blanket held firmly in place and she was nervous. She took a deep breath as cameras began flashing through the closed windows and hesitantly put on her mask. Fitz, who looked at her for the first time since the entire trip, nodded and opened the door. Lights flooded through the door as he stepped out. Mellie waited a moment longer, blinking back glazed eyes, put on her First Lady smile and firmly turned the door handle and stepped out.

They fell to their familiar pattern and waved to the public. She walked towards Fitz, who was next to the entrance. She took his hand and smiled as bright as she could while they waved to the public, an array of camera flashes blinking back at them. After a moment, they walked to the building and after a final wave, entered the warmly lit building. A long strip of red carpet in the lobby led to the main function room where the gala was held.

When they entered the room, Mellie's eyes widened at the beautiful, elegant décor. The windows were draped with white curtains, the round tables flirting with splashes of gold and white. Almost no one was sitting, although the room was nearly filled as government officials stood and chatted away in expensive dresses and suits, standing next to them were their wives and husbands. Mellie and Fitz shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with a few government officials. They were in the middle of talking with the governor of New York and his wife when Mellie excused herself. God, she needed to breathe. After flashing a charming smile, she left and headed for the bathroom.

A secret service agent silently guarded the door as she went in. To her relief, no one else was in the bathroom. She took off her high heels and lightly massaged her already aching feet. Assured her shoes wouldn't get stolen in the bathroom, she neatly placed them under the sink and went to a stall. After she washed her hands, she looked in the mirror. Her glossy curly brown hair caressed her shoulder, her red dress further proving her excellent taste in clothing – Mellie's name being mentioned in the same breath with Jacqueline Kennedy in newspaper articles amongst other well-dressed First Ladies. Her vivid, red lips a striking match to her dress. Alone in the bathroom however, her mask disappeared. In one blink, her eyes were yet again glazed with tears. _Come on, just keep it together, Mellie,_ she said quietly. She looked down at her hands and fiddled with her rings, which were slightly shaking. Fitz' words wrapped ever so slightly against her chest and soon, it was hard to breathe again. Her other hand curled into a fist in frustration as a tear rushed down her cheeks. Another came rushing down, and another. She stomped her foot in frustration, her chest physically _hurting._ She put her hand through her hair and looked in the mirror. _God_, she thought. She was a mess. Her hair was no longer polished and proper and her face looked red and pale. _God, what the hell am I doing?_ She thought. She shook her head, feeling pathetic and _so_ tired.

"Madame First Lady, is everything all right in there?" the agent said, his silhouette visible from the door.

"Yes, Colin. Just give me a minute and I'll be finished." Mellie said. She took a deep, ragged breath. She flashed her smile in the mirror and opened her clutch, reaching for her make up. She reapplied her makeup, fixed flyaways, tucking them inside her glossy curls and applied her lipstick. Slowly, her breathing evened. Feeling almost herself, she put on her heels as the mask was carefully sealed. Taking one more look in the mirror, she evened out her dress one more time and flashed a smile as she opened the door.

"Ready, ma'am?" Colin asked, his eyes scanning the floor.

"Ready."

Unable to find Fitz, she walked around the room alone, the agent disappearing by the door. A few officials exchanged pleasantries with her but she pushed forward through the swirling dresses and firm suits. The gala stretched from two enormous rooms, all the way to the second floor. Each room displayed a large, intricate chandelier, as well as soft classical music gently setting the atmosphere. A few more government officials said their polite hellos until she reached the stairs to the second floor. The sweeping, white marble staircase was a view itself. Polished black handles with sophisticated patterns on the side framed the staircase and she walked gracefully up to the second floor. Another enormous and busy ballroom welcomed her. Her eyes panned across the crowd, looking for someone she knew. A flash of red hair caught her eye. She walked up to Abby, who was wearing a beautiful, close-fitted emerald green dress. Her curled hair laid smoothly down her shoulders. She looked incredible.

"Abby!" Mellie said, flashing a charming smile in her first lady façade. "Oh, thank goodness you're here. I was just looking for Fitz. Have you seen him around?"

Abby, slighty surprised said, "Madame First Lady. I'm sorry, I haven't seen the president. Would you like me to call someone for you to find out where he is?"

"Oh no, that's alright. I think I have a pretty good guess who's he's w-" Mellie saw a flash of something on Abby's left. It was a sparkle of a clutch. Her eyes followed the woman's clutch, to her flowing white dress and she knew who it was. Olivia.

After a moment, Mellie said as brightly as she could, "Olivia! I didn't know you were going to be here."

Olivia smiled politely and said,"Mellie." The two looked at each other in a piercing gaze, mouths still smiling at each other. Abby felt uncomfortable.

"Well… I best be going. At least I can tick off one person in my list who isn't with Fitz." Mellie chuckled. "For a change." She added, under her breath. As she started moving past through the crowd once more, several things happened once.

A loud crash echoed from the top of the staircase. Someone screamed. Half a dozen black-clothed men broke through the window. They shot several guards who were standing by the door and rushed downstairs in one swift motion in one file, a gun accompanying each hand, each person unidentifiable with their black mask. Half a dozen more rushed into the second floor ballroom and shot several more people; guards or secret service agents, Mellie wasn't sure. Everything happened in blurs and flashes, accompanied by screams and shots through the air. The scene was a complete chaos as more windows in the ballroom smashed, bullets flying through the air from outside and shooting unsuspecting secret service agents and guards in the room. The two mahogany doors into the ballroom was slammed shut and locked by one of the black clothed men. Mellie could hear a similar commotion in the floor below. There were muffled screams and shots flying through the air. _Fitz_, she thought.

"If you don't follow our orders, you will be shot." The man said in a loud, demanding voice. The remaining men gathered around the man, their guns pointed straight at the crowd. People gasped, some screamed. The crowd quickly dispersed, backing away as quickly as they could. Some who were shocked by the sudden change of events, tripped and were crawling back quickly – wearing a terrified face.

"Relax, everyone. I have to admit, when we planned to come here, the theatrics of a dramatic entrance appealed to me. I wanted to see your usually pompous and important-looking faces looking goddamn terrified." He said. His eyes scanned the room. "And boy, did we fucking do it right."

Fortunately, Mellie was far from the masked men. She was in a corner near the back, a safe distance from the masked men. Her hand which was trembling slightly, covered her mouth. Unfortunately, she wasn't far enough to not see the sprays of blood covering some of the men's clothes. She backed away slowly. She wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. _Where was Fitz?_

The masked men made their way towards the podium, and the leader of the group stood behind the microphone.

"Call me John." He said. He scanned the room yet again. He stopped and looked at a man who was hovering in front of the Governor of New York and his wife only ten metres away from her. He raised his gun. One shot to the head. Mellie gasped, eyes wide with horror. She was shaking. She felt someone tug at her arm from behind.

"Another agent down." He said. "Find more. Kill them all, you know the drill." He pointed at two masked men who nodded and started walking around the room. Mellie felt someone tug at her harder, although she was too terrified to turn around and see who it was.

"We don't intend on killing civilians, unless you're stupid enough to go against us. Although, if you're agents bleeding out on the floor right now who are trained to kill people like us, well, that's a different story." the man chuckled. "We came here to find two people. Now, if you tell us where they are, we won't kill you. Simple as that. If we find out that any of you try to hide either one of them, trust me. You will die before you take another breath. If you withhold any information about their whereabouts, you will die. I could go on, but my patience is running thin. Now where is the President of our great nation and his darling First Lady?"

"HERE!" yelled one of the men to his partner patrolling the room. The man pulled someone from the back of the room. The masked man held the person by the arm and shot him. Several people cried out.

"Just another agent." The man exclaimed, wiping the blood off his face. He ignored the whimpering lady next to him, whose body was turned away and continued walking.

Mellie was crouching, shielding her face from the view. She could barely control her trembling hands as she covered her face. She whimpered quietly. The rest of someone else's blood had sprayed all over the back of her dress, some landing on her face. An agent was killed right behind her and she was too slow to cover her eyes. She had seen it all. She was still shaking as she wiped some of the blood from her face, her eyes shining with tears. She glanced at the dead man. It knocked the wind out of her as she recognised – barely – the bloody face of Colin, her personal secret service body guard. She tried desperately to cover the sound as she cried out in horror, eyes wide and her bloody hand never leaving her trembling mouth.

In one swift motion, someone tugged at her arms, hid her in one corner away from the men in masks and told her to keep very quiet.

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	2. Chapter 2

The next few moments happened in a blur. A dark figure hovered over her, the person's mouth moving but it sounded muffled. The dark figure became two and soon, like a switch was turned on, everything came rushing back to her.

"Mellie? Mellie? It's Olivia. You're going to have to be very qui – Mellie – can you hear me?" Olivia whispered.

"Liv, he- he- he's dead. He's dead." Mellie cried, one hand gripping Olivia's arm, her eyes frantic, her body shaking. "I think he was t-trying to save me. I don't- I don't-"

"You're in shock, Mellie. B-but it's going to be okay. You just have to be very quiet because they're looking for y-you." Olivia whispered, trying to calm her down. Olivia's eyes were wide, scared. Her hands shook, trying to calm Mellie down. Abby crouched down next to Olivia watching the sudden change of events unfold, her trembling hand covering her mouth.

"It's going to be okay. Do you hear me? It will be okay." continued Olivia, taking a shaky breath. Mellie took several deep breaths and forced herself to calm down. Her hands had started trembling again.

"Fitz, Liv. Where's Fitz? W-we have to get him out of here." she pleaded, gripping Olivia's arm hard again, smearing blood on her skin.

"O-olivia." Abby said in an abrupt whisper. "Liv, he's coming this way."

Mellie sucked in her breath. Olivia scanned the room, looking for a way out. There were no other doors that lead out except for the large mahogany doors that were being guarded by two masked men, their guns ready.

"There." Olivia whispered. She pointed at a door that has a sign, 'storage room'. It wasn't far from where they were although, Olivia was concerned how Mellie was going to get there without being noticed, in her psychological state.

"We have to be quick. H-he's coming. If he looks in our direction, the First Lady is dead." Abby said frantically, nudging Olivia to move.

"Mellie? You have to move. There's no other way out of here but I found a storage room that we can temporarily hide you in." said Olivia, getting into a familiar coping mechanism of hers; pushing her feelings away in a closet during a crisis. "We're going to cover you but you have to walk yourself so they can't notice us."

Mellie hesitated and started protesting. She looked straight at both of their eyes and said in a serious tone, "I am _not_ leaving both of you out here."

"Mellie, we'll follow you once you're inside. They're looking for _you_, do you hear me? You are not allowed to die. It's very important that you do _not_ leave that room. Please." pleaded Olivia.

They were all crouched down, hiding behind a table, away from the men in masks. Mellie still hesitated. Abby and Olivia gave her frantic gestures to move and slowly, Mellie started crawling towards the door. Mellie was shaking as her knees protested to give in.

"Hey! What are you doing over there?" one of the masked men was looking at them and started approaching Olivia and Abby and as he moved, they saw flashes of his gun placed in the inside pocket of his jacket. "What were you two looking at, huh? Who were you talking to?" He glanced at the direction they were looking at. No one was there.

"Wait. I recognise both of you. Olivia Pope. Abby Whelan. High connections to the White House." He took out his gun and before any of them could react, he pointed it straight at them, wasting no time. "Where's the President and the First Lady?"

Olivia and Abby flinched, their faces suddenly meeting with the huge barrel of a gun.

"P-please." Olivia stammered. She held a hand up, which slightly shook, and tried to calm him down. "Why are you d-doing this? W-what do you want from them?"

The masked man and John exchanged looks and they snickered. "Oh, you're funny. You're a funny one." the man said. "That's certainly not for you to know, Miss Pope." He continued, playing with his gun.

He crouched down to them. "You see, I know everything about you." He revealed, looking at Abby. "And you." he said, looking at Olivia and chuckled. "I've read every single page of a very thick file of everyone in this room. Everything. Pages and pages of your dirty little secrets. Classified information. Phone calls. Surveillance videos. So I know, Miss Pope, you've recently talked to the President. So recently in fact, I have a video of you talking to each other a mere five minutes before we came here. Now where is he? Where's the First Lady?"

"I don't know where they are. The President and I saw each other. We talked. He left. That was it." Olivia hissed.

"So you have _no_ idea where he or the First Lady went?" the man said in a serious tone.

"None. And if I did, I'm sure as hell I'd never tell any of you."

"None, huh? Did you hear that guys? She won't tell us even if she knew." He glanced at the men in masks who looked at each other. No one was smiling.

"You're _sure_, you never saw any of them again?" the man asked in a serious tone, with a hint of underlying venom as he looked at Olivia straight in the eye.

"I didn't even turn around to see where he'd gone." Olivia said, staring back at him. For a moment, Olivia and the masked man stared at each other. The tension grew. Abby felt as though the room had suddenly become very quiet. She thought it had become so quiet that she could hear Olivia's own heartbeats. The tension between Olivia and the masked man suddenly popped as the man flashed a wide smile.

"Well alright, Miss Pope. Perhaps, you really don't know where both of them had gone. Since, I'm clearly wasting my time here, there's no point asking you something you know nothing about. I'll leave you both to it."

He started rising up to stand when in an instant he yanked Olivia's hair and dragged her by her hair against the wall, roaring, "I don't have time for games, Miss Pope!"

He cocked the gun against her temple and pressed hard. Olivia screamed, her mouth trembling.

"Get your hands off of her!" Abby yelled, advancing towards him. Before she could reach him, John appeared and dragged her back roughly by her hair. Abby cried out in pain. She fought hard as he held her back, stomping his foot and trying to free her arms. He didn't budge.

"I d-d-don't know what else you want from m-me. Please, I don't know w-where they are." Olivia whimpered, the gun still pressed hard against her temple, raising her trembling hands above her head. Her eyes filled with tears while she looked at Abby, who's restless against John's grip. Olivia cried out again as he yanked harder against her hair.

"I don't have time for lies!" He hissed.

"No. Don't you touch her." Abby warned.

"Frank, hurry it along. I am getting extremely bored by this charade." John said, his effortless grip as tight as ever on a restless Abby.

"Where's the President, Miss Pope?" Frank said calmly.

"I-I don't know." whimpered Olivia. Frank swung his gun and slapped Olivia across the face. She screamed in pain and started falling to the ground, blood dripping from her face. He caught her by her hair and yanked her up again. Olivia screamed in agony, her eyes wide, her body shaking.

"WHERE IS THE PRESIDENT AND THE FIRST LADY?" Frank demanded.

"P-p-please. I don't know!" begged Olivia. She attempted to shield her face as he struck his gun across Olivia's face once again. She shrieked in pain, pleading, "Please! I don't-I don't know. P-please stop, I don't know w-where they are."

At the corner of her eye, she saw something move. She moved her eyes slightly to her left, trying not to get the attention of her captors. The door to the storage room had opened and Mellie's head was poking out. Mellie stared at her in shock. Olivia's face was covered in blood, dripping down her white dress. Abby was still fighting against John's grip, her flaming red hair everywhere, her feet moving angrily against her emerald dress. She was restless and hysterical. Frank was telling her to shut up while John looked quite pissed having to wrestle a middle-aged woman.

_No, Olivia, this is enough! I'm handing myself in_, Mellie mouthed. Olivia's eyes widened in alarm. She positioned one of her hands away from her captors' view and pointed her to go back into the room_. No way, you stay right there, _Olivia mouthed, angling her head away from John and Frank. She repeated her gesture to return to the room several times until Frank snapped," What the hell are you doing? _What_ are you looking at?"

It happened so fast, Olivia barely had time to react. Frank raised his gun and pressed it against Olivia's temple. Abby gasped as she saw Mellie's head sticking out of the room and watching her. Frank was about to turn to where Olivia was looking at when Abby suddenly thrashed around – saw Mellie swiftly hide back inside – and yelled, "WAIT- I know where the President is. Look at me please- listen to me. I know where he is and I'll take you to him."

Frank pointed the gun at her, "Don't bullshit me."

"No! I'm not. I k-know where he is. Just let Olivia g-go and I'll take you to him." She pleaded.

"How about you tell me where he is, and we'll go find him ourselves?" Frank pointed out.

"Because you won't find him. Listen to me- listen. I work at the White House, I hear things. Secret Service agents will always be 5 feet from him, even though you think you've killed them all. I know where they hid him, I'll lead you to him." Abby said.

"Abby, no." Olivia thundered. Holding Olivia back with one hand, Frank's gun is still pointed at Abby using the other, not convinced.

"You know what? Frank, why don't you check it out? Let's pick up the pace here." John commanded. Frank looked at him in disbelief and started protesting.

"You're kidding me."

"No. Now get going." John instructed. Frank hesitantly placed his gun back to his pocket.

"Wait. I'm not taking you to him unless you promise to leave Olivia alone. Are you hearing me? Leave. Her. Alone. You don't touch her." Abby uttered, not a wavering tone in her voice.

"Whatever you say, princess. Just remember, you lie to us about this and I will make Olivia watch you bleed to death." John threatened, finally letting go of his pincer grip on Abby. It was quickly replaced by Frank's as he let go of Olivia's hair. She dropped straight to the floor.

Olivia helplessly tried scrambling back to her feet but failed, slumping back against the wall, wincing. "Abby! Wait- what the hell are you doing? Abby? Wha-what are you gonna do?" protested Olivia. She winced as she tried to get back on her feet once more when John held her back.

"You stay here." He instructed.

"ABBY, PLEASE. Don't do this." Olivia pleaded, tears finally rushing down her face. Her head felt like it was cracking open. She was fighting against unconsciousness.

Abby and Frank reached the front doors of the ballroom. Frank opened it. Abby glanced back at Olivia. She was screaming and thrashing against John who was holding her back. She gave her a last meaningful look_. Over a cliff, Olivia, she thought. _They stared at each other for a moment as though Olivia read her mind. Frank hastily pushed her through the door.

"ABBY, NO. COME B- ABBY! NO, PLEASE." Olivia cried, thrashing around helplessly. The doors to the room echoed to a close. A man in a mask locked it once more. Olivia slumped back down, her head propped up against her knees, silently crying.

"Pity. I really wish you guys said your goodbyes, because it looks like she won't be coming back." John taunted.

Olivia looked up, confused, and started frantically wiping away her tears. "Wha- what? What do you mean?"

"Please. I've been to many similar situations like this to know a desperate little martyr when I see one. There's always one or two in situations like these." He sneered.

"W-w-what? But you let her go! You let her lead the way to Fitz."

"Only because there's a very small chance she actually could be telling the truth." He said. Olivia looked at him with exasperation.

"We don't waste chances here, Miss Pope." He said smoothly. "If someone with a fight in them manages to get our attention, we follow through. Only I highly doubt Miss Whelan was actually telling the truth and breaking our record when the last 16 people we encountered that was just like her, was killed." He said in a matter-of-factly tone.

"I still don- you're saying that you're practically leading her to her death? Are you insane? Bring her back. Wha-"

"If you put it that way… yes. Since you obviously can't even stand up, you're no help to me anymore. Now, you'll faint at some point in the next five minutes judging from the amount of blood in your head. Try not to make any more mess. I suggest you get out of our way and not disturb us the second time." He taunted, walking away.

As soon as he mentioned Olivia's head, the throbbing in her head returned, even worse this time. It felt like someone's hands was on either side of her head and pushing into her skull. The bleeding had stopped, but her hair and dress was matted with it. She started crawling towards the storage room using the wall for support but abruptly stopped. She realised she was leaving bloody handprints if she was to go hide in the storage room. She started seeing double. Olivia tried to stand up but her knees buckled and she started swaying to the side. She blinked back tears or blood; she wasn't sure. She left a final bloody handprint on the wall and her knees gave in, her head hitting hard against the hardwood floors.

She woke up to a blinding pain in her head and she groaned. She winced as she slowly rolled to her side – her head too heavy to carry – to see what was happening. She blinked a few times to see where she was. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she saw she wasn't in the same place.

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	3. Chapter 3

She was in a small, dimly lit room. The air was stale and heavy with dust. There were a few boxes hastily placed in a corner accompanied by several chairs stacked on top of each other. There was a tall wooden shelf filled with various things, from spare cutlery to unopened battery packs. Her head painfully throbbed as she slowly sat on the floor, wincing. That's when she realised her wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, the tight fabric soothing her angry, raw skin.

"Don't touch it or it's going to get infected." A small voice said. Olivia looked around but saw no one. Then, someone's silhouette moved away from the shadows. Mellie's hands were wrapped around arms, her curls – which looked ruffled with stress – swept over her face and set soft shadows over her features. She was trembling slightly. She had patches of dried blood on her arms that she was trying to remove with a tissue. A small first-aid kit was laid out on a small table next to her, which her deep red dress caressed by as she walked and crouched down to her.

"A-Abby. Where did they t-take her? I-I-I couldn't see anything after she s-said…" Mellie quavered, looking down at her hands. She was silent for a moment. She took a deep breathe and said quietly, "You were out for several hours, so I had time to think. I was wracking my head and trying to think of an answer. _Why_ did you do it? I know Abby must've done it for you otherwise you'd have a hole in your head. But you…" she chuckled quietly, her voice now unwavering, "You had absolutely no reason to not point where I was. Or did our dearest Olivia had to have a barrel of a gun pointed at her to develop a conscience? Maybe you suddenly became guilty? Sorry for ruining our marriage?" Mellie said.

"Wouldn't you have gained from my death? 'Tragic death of the First Lady results in the President of the United States to step down from office' one newspaper would say. It really wouldn't surprise me if you were living together the following week." She visualised, chuckling, and looked away.

There was a long silence. Olivia looked at her, surprised by her sudden outburst. Mellie paused, and said under her breath, "Vermont. Jam. Kids."

"Wha-what did you say?" Olivia said.

"Those three words… over and over and over again. He'd mutter it in his sleep. It used to drive me crazy for months. I wanted to ask him about it until one night… He muttered one name that made it all clear. Yours. Huh." Mellie stood up and starting pacing.

"If I die tonight-"

"Mellie-"

"_When _I die tonight… don't forget about little Teddy and my sweet, sweet Karen. Bring them when both of you move to Ver-"

"Mellie, wha- Fitz won't forget about your chil-"

"Don't give him too much alcohol to drink- he gets harsh around the kids." She interjected, not looking at Olivia. There was a long pause between them, Mellie looking at the wall.

"Once you've experienced your husband's father rape you, and watch your husband cheat on you, and have him blame you for every problem you've both come across and watch him become distant, and _mean_…" Mellie blurted out. "Once you wonder if one of your kids' father is Fitz's or Fitz's father the first time it read positive on the pregnancy test and the first time you looked at little Jerry in the hospital bed and you don't feel happy, you feel scared. When you develop a wall from your own son while he grew up because you were _afraid_. Once you had to experience him die in front of you and learn it was Fitz's the whole time… you question yourself. Why am I still here? Wha- what am I doing here, what's the point?"

Mellie blinked back tears, fiddling with her blood-stained pearl bracelet. "Living… is so exhausting. Especially when the person you're spending it with makes you feel like you shouldn't."

"Mellie…" Olivia murmured, not knowing what to say. Heavy silence fell upon them. She stood up, slowly, her head still pounding. She reached for Mellie's shoulder when Mellie flinched and pushed her hand away.

"Please, Olivia. Don't shower me with sympathy, and your sorries. I-I appreciate what you and Abby did for me- I really do – but god I wish I took her place instead. I'm- what have I got to lose?"

"Mellie, you have to stop thinking this way. You are not dying tonight. You have Karen and Teddy to think about. And Fit-"

Mellie scoffed. "I lost Fitz a long, long time ago when he fell into your pretty little lap. And don't you dare tell me what you think I haven't lost." She glared at Olivia, then looked away. Olivia's heart sunk with the weight of her words. "Karen, my sweet, sweet daughter? She hasn't looked at me the same way ever since she walked in on me and Andrew. And baby Teddy? He has spent more time with his nanny than I ever could. I think he thinks _I'm_ the nanny." Mellie continued. She looked at Olivia for a moment, searching her eyes for _something; _she didn't quite know what. An explanation? Sympathy? Guilt? She looked down at her blood-stained hands and scoffed. "Anything for the President of the United States, right?" she added sarcastically, under her breath. A long silence settled like dust. Mellie stared through the stale air, lost in her own thoughts. She shook her head and looked at Olivia.

"We have to get out of here. We have to find Fitz." Mellie stated, a lace of desperation in her voice. Her eyes scanned around the room, looking for means of getting out. "Phones doesn't work. Those people must've likely cut-off the phone signal in this area. I-I couldn't get through to anyone." said Mellie. Olivia walked towards her.

"I thought so. I have no idea when or how but help is coming. Almost all of the secret service agents are assigned here when you both arrived. There is a very high chance that people have been alerted of the situation. Every secret service agent losing contact with other agents outside the building, not to mention everyone else in the building, just out of nowhere? It raises all sorts of alarms across the security board and administration, not to mention the defence agencies: CIA and FBI just to name a few. Soon, everyone will be on board and the entire nation will be finding a way to get you and Fitz and everyone in this building to safety." Olivia addressed in a familiar, fast, authoritarian way many of her colleagues had always been in awe of about her. "Blueprints of the building will be spread all over the desks of top government officials who couldn't make it tonight, planning the best possible way to get tactical teams inside and get all of us out with as little death as possible. Meanwhile, in the back of their minds they'd be thinking, "What if my kid's college graduation was moved to tomorrow and my wife and I had attended the gala? What if this seminar I attended instead at the other side of the country was postponed? What if I wasn't being rushed into the hospital in my gala attire in the last minute to deliver my second baby girl?" she continued. Mellie's apprehensive eyes stared back at her. She slowly reached for Mellie's hands. Mellie didn't flinch and she took it.

"Fitz is alive. I can feel it. There's a good possibility he's downstairs with Cyrus and if he is, then he's in good hands. He'd die for him, you know that." Olivia said, gently tugging at her hands, intent on Mellie believing her. Mellie nodded.

"We have to find Abby, She's alone in this. Somewhere in this building, she's being pushed around by a terrorist who could snap her neck in a second. We owe her our lives." Olivia concluded. Mellie nodded several times in agreement. "Now, I need to know what happened while I was out." Olivia gently dropped Mellie's hands to her sides.

"You were out for a while… two hours, I think. You were still out there in the first half an hour. I _couldn't_ risk being seen by anyone. I wasn't about to throw away what you and Abby did for me, so I waited."Mellie explained quietly, biting her lip. "The first hour was quiet; one of the men fired instructions at the rest of them most of the time. I think it was something about putting us in groups and asking us questions? I couldn't hear anything else more specific than that because the door was blocking the sound." She continued, her eyebrows furrowed. "I knew slipping my head out again wasn't a good idea in case someone was patrolling the area, so I didn't risk it. When the first hour was up, I heard a lot of people yelling and shuffling around the room – I think they were being forced in corners or small rooms. I made a quick judgement and dragged you here. I don't think anyone saw me because there was a large commotion happening on the other side of the room. I only just started hearing people being moved after I got back here when suddenly I heard screams and things being knocked over. It would come in waves. I was so confused about what was happening at first, but then I realised… they were shooting people."

Mellie looked down. "I-I-I-I felt so… helpless. And useless. I knew running out of here and handing myself in was a death wish, but there were moments where I nearly turned the handle on the door. Those screams, Liv. I keep imagining wives kneeled down next to their husbands who were shot, deep in their blood and I-I-I- knew what they were feeling, you know? It reminded me when…when Fitz…" she mumbled, trailing off.

"Hey. It's okay. It's good that you stayed here- it's good. That means they don't have leverage against Fitz. If you're caught and they demand for Fitz, trust me. Fitz is going to go runni-"

"Huh. I'm not so sure about that. He didn't show up for me the first time."Mellie looked away, thinking of the time she and baby Teddy toured the press around the White House and Fitz didn't come. "Yeah-he might come looking for me only because he thinks that's his duty. Because he _has_ to. As a husband and the President of the United States, he might be inclined to do so. What kind of president will the public think if he was too cowardly to save his wife? The public loves heroics. He knows that. But out of love? Out of deep, I'd-do-anything-for-you, I'd-kill-for-you love? Ha. Now that's a story for the newspapers."

"He'll show up. Whatever happens, he will show up. But right now? You can't risk getting caught. If they want something from Fitz and they catch you, god knows what those bastards will do to you to let him force his hand." Olivia said.

* * *

The door slammed shut, echoing throughout the hallway outside the ballroom. Abby bit her lip, her hands fidgeting against the strong layers of tape Frank had just rolled around her wrists to bind her hands together. He roughly gripped her arm as he led her down the stairs, the echoes of her heels trailing behind her. She immediately saw the anxious faces of the people below as they looked up. She gasped when she saw blood splattered across the wall in one corner, with two people hovering over someone lying on the ground. She flinched and looked away as she realised what had happened. She was suddenly struck by what she had just done. She had no plan. Her heart skipped a beat and quickly scanned the room for any means of escape. They reached the bottom of the stairs.

"So, where are we going?" he taunted. "Where's our honourable dearest president?"

She saw something glint in the corner of her eyes. A tall vase bloomed with flowers was placed on top of a polished wooden table. She quickly assessed the vase and looked away, trying not to be obvious_. It's tall, but not heavy,_ she thought. A masked man walked up to them. He started talking to Frank in low whispers, facing away from her. She looked around and saw a young woman sitting on the ground, looking at her. She wore a short purple dress and her hair was up in a ponytail, the curly ends brushing just above her shoulders.

_Hey_, Abby mouthed, _come here_. The woman nodded. Her eyes glanced around and found no one else was watching them. She scooted closer towards her. She stopped when she was about two metres away from Abby, trying not to draw suspicion.

"What's your name?" Abby whispered, ever so slightly leaning towards her so she could hear.

"Jordan." She whispered back, glancing to her sides once more.

"Okay, Jordan I want you to do something for me. You know these masked men?" Jordan nodded. "I want you to whisper to as many people as possible to bring them down." Abby whispered. Jordan furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"Literally. Tackle them down, punch them, knock them down. Grab their guns if you can. Anything to get them out of my way. I'm going to try and call for help outside. I'll give you a signal. Will you do that for me?" Abby whispered rapidly.

Jordan's eyes widened and nodded several times.

"As many people as possible, okay? The more, the better." Abby repeated. She nodded. Abby looked at Frank who was still in a deep conversation with the other masked man. She scanned the room once more, her blue eyes fixated on the tall, mahogany front door. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.

She was ready.

* * *

_Thank you all for your reviews/faves/follows! Thoughts?_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hello everyone! Suuuper sorry for being absent for the longest writing hiatus ever. It's been an awful mix of writing block and life keeping me super busy these past couple of months. So, in honour of the new season of Scandal, here's a new chapter :) I appreciate every single review, follow and favourite I've received so far. Thanks everyone!_

* * *

_Previously…_

_Hey, Abby mouthed, come here. The woman nodded. Her eyes glanced around and found no one else was watching them. She scooted closer towards her. She stopped when she was about two metres away from Abby, trying not to draw suspicion. _

"_What's your name?" Abby whispered, ever so slightly leaning towards her so she could hear._

"_Jordan." She whispered back, glancing to her sides once more._

"_Okay, Jordan I want you to do something for me. You know these masked men?" Jordan nodded. "I want you to whisper to as many people as possible to bring them down." Abby whispered. Jordan furrowed her eyebrows in confusion._

"_Literally. Tackle them down, punch them, knock them down. Grab their guns if you can. Anything to get them out of my way. I'm going to try and call for help outside. I'll give you a signal. Will you do that for me?" Abby whispered rapidly._

_Jordan's eyes widened and nodded several times. _

"_As many people as possible, okay? The more, the better." Abby repeated. She nodded. Abby looked at Frank who was still in a deep conversation with the other masked man. She scanned the room once more, her blue eyes fixated on the tall, mahogany front door. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. _

_She was ready._

* * *

Olivia tapped her foot impatiently. She bit her lip, her eyes glancing at Mellie, then at the door. She couldn't bear not knowing where they took Abby. Is she even still alive? A million scenarios ran in her head, none of which ended well. She pictured Huck- or Quinn, walking towards her with that look- that look that would only mean one thing. She could see a body bag behind her being zipped up by paramedics. She looked back at Quinn in time to hear her voice crack as she delivered the grim news. She shook the thought away, turning away from Mellie as tears started forming. Her chest tightened and not a moment later, she couldn't breathe properly. She clutched at her chest and tried to find her breathing, but failed, quickly sending her into a spluttering, heaving mess.

"Olivia?" Mellie murmured, a concerned look on her eye.

"S-S-Stay here." Olivia choked out, abruptly standing up.

"Are you okay? Wait-Wha-Where are you going?" Mellie asked, surprised.

"Stay put. I mean it, Mellie. I'm going to find Abby."

* * *

Abby watched Jordan whisper the details on a man's ear. She bit her lip, glancing back to her masked captor, Frank, an apprehensive eye on him. Her eyes anxiously scanned the rest of the room. Abby watched the scene unfold. She noticed a dramatic change in the atmosphere. Whispers grew louder as the message was spread; people glanced at her before looking away, returning back to their animated whispers. She was still scratching away at her wrists, determined to get out of the tight restraints. Her wrists bore an angry red colour, her skin turning raw. Seeing that it refused to budge, she glanced back at Frank and started biting through the duct tape. She managed to make a small tear until she saw the masked man Frank was talking to walk away in the corner of her eye. She quickly pulled down her hands and angled the small tear away from him as he arrived.

He roughly grabbed her arm and walked her to a corner. "I don't know about you, Miss Whelan, but I'm having a grand time tonight." He whispered at her ear. "Don't fuck it up." He hissed. In one swift motion, he took her wrists and bound them tighter than ever with duct tape. "I'm not an idiot. Now, lead me to the president."

Abby looked around the room. She slowly started walking across the room aimlessly, trying to buy time. As soon as her body was straight across the main door- even though several metres still separated them- she yelled, "Now!"

The entire room suddenly woke up from its slumber. The floor shook under her feet as she watched the scene unfold. Roughly two dozen people started charging for the men in masks while others quickly ushered the rest away from the fight into rooms. The frantic look on people's faces as they collided into the fire exit doors leading down the stairs meant that they had barricaded and locked the door. It wasn't long after until the first shot from the masked men ran out. Piercing screams and echoes of gunshots filled the room, the splatter of blood a harsh contrast against the once white curtains. Abby stood rooted to the spot, slightly shaking. Yells of instructions from Frank echoed through the room as people were now trying to grab their weapons. A man in his early thirties was wrestling a masked man in one corner for his gun, both faces bloody and bruised. Abby could see several bodies on the floor, not moving. She stared in shock. She let out a muffled sob and wiped away a stray tear. Her heart twinged painfully as she wanted to help them. After a few moments, she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to regain her composure. She took one last look at the scene and ran for the door – which now stood unguarded.

She reached for the door handle and found it sealed shut. She turned the handle several times but it would not budge. She cried in frustration, taking a step back and slamming her side to the door repeatedly to force it open, to no avail. At the same time, a masked man heard the commotion by the door and yelled, "OI!"

Abby's heart skipped a beat. Desperate, she tried turning the door handle several times once again. The door remained close. As she saw him loom closer at the corner of her eye, she began to step back and kick the door, releasing cries of frustration when it remained close. Before she could kick it again, the man had taken a hold of her, placing his arms around her waist as she screamed. She fought and kicked against his grasp, finally punching his face with her elbow and wriggled free. She punched his face once again. The masked man then started stumbling backwards and finally – tripped on a clutch. He hit his head against the wall and crashed on the floor, unconscious. She stared in shock for a few seconds and forced her trembling figure down to search his pockets for anything that could help her open the door.

A cigarette pack, a blueprint of the building, some gum and finally – a gun. She examined the heavy weapon with her trembling hands, feeling the loaded power within. She has never used a gun outside a firing range before. Abby stood up and walked towards the locked door to the lobby. Taking a slow, shaky breath, she aimed for the lock. She fired three shots in quick succession. She cautiously walked forward and the door swung open with ease.

* * *

Abby had not made two steps when she slipped on something wet, smacking hard against the cold, white tiles. She groaned, clutching her head. She went to sit upright when she realised she was covered in something warm. She looked down and her eyes widened in horror as she looked at her hands. They were covered in deep, vivid blood, which slowly trickled down her arms.

"Oh my god." She whispered in horror, and crawled away as fast as she could. She turned around to see a woman, lying on her stomach, a pool of blood surrounding her. The woman's messy black hair concealed her face, her white dress splayed around her. _Was it even white? _Abby thought. The dress was almost completely saturated in blood; its source seemed to be coming from the deep, gaping hole on her chest. Her dark skin was pale, dead to the world.

Abby's heart dropped. She gasped, her trembling hands covering her mouth. "No. N-No. Oh, god. It's-It's not her. It can't be." She choked out, blinking back tears. Her trembling body crawled slowly towards the lifeless figure, leaving bloody handprints on the white tiles. She was crying now, her arms shaking so bad she could barely crawl forward. _Please. Please Please Please Please Please_, she chanted in her head.

Abby reached the body. Her heart thumped faster and faster, ringing in her ears. Her trembling hand cautiously met with the woman's shoulder. Goosebumps rose from Abby's skin. She was already so _cold_. She took a shaky breath, firmly held her shoulder and turned her around. The woman's lifeless eyes bore right through her. She gasped and crawled back in shock. She closed her eyes. It wasn't Olivia. She sighed in relief.

"Oh, thank god." She whispered. She stood up and saw the lifeless figure of a man behind her, who died in a similar fashion. Abby then looked at the door and looked back at the bodies and made the link. They were trying to get out of the lobby. The masked men must've had them surrounded and closed off all the exits as they entered the building. Smears of blood marked the mahogany door and the locked handle. Her eyes followed the smears down until the door touched the floor, where the smears of blood gradually became more frantic. She pictured that they must've been friends, or lovers, who were cornered by one of the masked men. They were shot and as a last resort, tried to flee the room, scratching and knocking against the locked door. Abby shook the thought away, her heart heavy. She looked around and saw it on the other side of the room. Barricaded and locked no doubt, was the front door.

"Turn around nice and slowly." A voice said, a gun pressed firmly on her head. Abby's heart stopped. She turned around and met with a man's piercing cold eyes, the barrel of a gun digging painfully against her skull. Even through his mask his voice was clear as day, echoing throughout the quiet hallway. He quickly snatched the gun she had forgotten was on her hand.

"And where do you think you're going?" he hissed, his voice laced with malice. He grabbed her arm firmly, and led her away from the bodies. They started walking across a dark hallway where doors led to smaller function rooms.

"Where'd you come from, huh? Me and my partner have been circling the lobby since we came. Locked and barricaded the doors and the windows. Shut down the elevators and closed off the stairs. No way you've been hiding in the lobby the whole time." He said, hissing at her ear. They reached one of the last doors on the hallway and stopped.

"Don't test me." He said through gritted teeth. She kept her mouth firmly shut, afraid that they would lock the doors to the room that she came in and trap everyone else inside. Tension filled the air as he breathed down her neck.

"I don't have time for games. How did you get to the lobby? Huh? How?" Silence. He yanked at Abby's messy hair, resulting a sharp gasp from her. "Answer me. Where did you come from?" He thundered, pressing the gun harder against her skull.

Abby whimpered, her eyes tearing up because of the tight grip on her hair. "I-I-I'm not s-saying anything."

Without warning, he suddenly slammed her against the wall, pulled out a set of keys and opened the door. He forced her inside, her head smacking hard against the white wall. He yanked her hands behind her back and forced it together using a zip tie. Abby whimpered, blood slowly trickling down her head.

"P-P-Please." She pleaded, crying quietly.

"That little bruise is nothing compared to what I'm trained for. Now I'm gonna ask you one last time. How did you get here?"

She didn't say anything. He slammed his gun on the side of her face.

"Please!" she cried, tasting the metallic tang of blood on her lips. He raised his arm again.

"-No! Don't. P-Please. _Please_." She winced. He crouched down and pointed his gun to her head.

"Where?" he whispered in a low, dangerous tone. A pause. He pressed harder against her temple.

"The main function room. I-I came f-from the main function room for the gala." She said in a hoarse whisper, crying.

He grabbed her face forcefully and spat, "Did anyone else come with you?" Abby shook her head.

He let go of her face, hitting the wall again with a thud. She groaned, smearing the wall with blood.

"I know who you are. Everyone single person in this building. I know who you're friends with. I know what you did this morning and what you had for lunch last Monday." He revealed in a low, dangerous tone. "Enlighten me, Miss Whelan, have you seen the President recently, by any chance?"

"Have I?" she said, defiant, wiping the blood off her mouth. "I sure as hell would never te-"

"Have you ever been shot, Miss Whelan?" he snapped. "Would you like to find o-"

The door swung open. Another person in a mask signalled him to come closer. Abby sighed in relief, her head pounding painfully. The men talked in fast, tense whispers. It seemed that something had occurred. After several moments, his partner left.

"Try anything funny and you will never exhale another breath." He thundered. He slammed the door close. She heard the muffled jingle of the keys. A final click of the lock. The heavy pitter-patter of his footsteps becoming fainter. And at last, silence.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Thoughts? Should I continue? _


	5. Chapter 5

Olivia closed the door quietly. She quickly crawled to the nearest table and scanned the room. Two masked men were guarding every exit, while the guests were all huddled in a corner together, their faces alert and terrified. She could see several tending to the wounded, particularly to a small group on the far side of the room, who was tending to a woman who seems to have been shot. The room was deadly silent, except for the woman who was screaming, her wails echoing throughout the room. Olivia's chest tightened as the woman pleaded for her husband to stop the pain.

"George, p-please. Oh, p-p-please, I can't. I-I can't do this anymore. It h-hurts- god, it hurts so much." She choked out, a small blood of pool surrounding her and her husband as he held her hand. He was crying quietly, trying to put pressure on her wound with his jacket. Olivia watched them quietly for several minutes, fighting the temptation to expose herself and try to help them. More minutes passed, and slowly, only the man's soft cries was heard echoing throughout the room.

"Hey- Hey, look at me. It's alright. It's okay, George. You don't have to put pressure on it anymore. It won't do anything." She said so faintly a moment later, Olivia almost didn't hear it. George shook his frantically.

"N-No. Lauren, you- you are not leaving me. L-Lauren, I…" He sobbed. "I am going to continue putting pressure on your chest if it meant you can breath for a second longer. No- Don't- Don't look at me like that. I love you, you will- you will be okay."

Olivia looked away, her eyes brimming with tears. She released a shaky breath and focused on possible exits. A masked captor guarded each door, their long rifles held securely besides them, looking as though everything was completely fine. She looked over at the main door. Two masked men guarded the tall, mahogany doors. One of them nodded to the other and started heading towards the group.

"OI. Break it up. Right now." The man hissed. Everyone suddenly jumped at the voice. They quickly dispersed to the comfort of the shadows as he walked towards the couple, dragging his long rifle behind him.

"If you don't shut up right now, I will make sure your little boy at home – yes, I know about little 8-year-old Declan – has a hole in his chest to match his mama." He threatened. Lauren closed a trembling mouth, tears quietly rushing down her face. George covered his mouth with a shaking hand to muffle his sobs.

The masked man looked at them for a moment longer. He raised his gun. Lauren whimpered and shut her eyes. He held the rifle securely by his side and had just turned to walk back to his partner when George stammered, "Why-Why a-are you doing this? Please. Please let my wife out. She- She needs help, she-she's bleeding. Oh, she's b-bleeding so much, oh god-"

Upon instinct, she started crawling to neighbour tables, closer and closer to the door. "You see… that's what I don't get. That's what I don't understand." She heard him say in a serious tone, waving his rifle.

"You all scream. You cry and you plead. You place yourselves in front of a gun just so you could protect the person behind you. You weep your hearts out. Yet you all put your confidence in Fitzgerald Grant. That son of a bitch who can't even face us is cowering behind the bodies of the dead who sacrificed themselves for him. You all voted for a coward. Look around everybody. Every single drop of blood spilled, every single person lying dead in their own blood in this room had to sacrifice their own lives for a President who can't even show up to sacrifice his life for _one_ person. He's hiding in a small, dark corner somewhere in this building, leaned back on a chair, relaxed, while everybody else wipes their sweat and spill their blood for him."

* * *

Running his hand through his hair, Fitz's eyes were fixed at the door. He had sent one of his secret service agents who had dragged him away from the chaos to walk around the floor and check for phone reception. The tension in the room intensified as they heard a woman scream on the floor above. It has been half an hour since they have heard anything outside the room.

"What was that?" Fitz burst out. He looked at the ceiling. His stomach twisted into a knot. Cyrus, who had been pacing back and forth across the room in a tense manner, broke out of his trance to look at the ceiling. He looked at Fitz for a moment, but soon he was back pacing, running his hand through his hair. Fitz got a glimpse of the dried splatter of blood on his arms. Earlier, a secret service agent had just managed to push Cyrus down before the agent was shot, while Cyrus sat frozen in fear, shielding his face with his trembling arms as he felt the spray of blood land on him.

Fitz looked away. He had been a mere metre away as it happened and his heart was still beating faster than normal. He still remembered Hal's tight grip as he was roughly tackled away from the scene, the rapid gunfire ripping through the air as the secret service agent aimed at a masked man running in their direction. His chest tightened at these thoughts and he shook them away, his nostrils flaring.

Someone knocked on the door. Hal let a sliver of light in as he checked to see who it was. He looked around the hallway to check if anyone had followed him before letting the other agent in. Pete, Hal's new partner, closed the door quietly.

"Anything?" Fitz asked, raising his head from his hands.

"Nothing, Mr President. I ran into one of them as I walked around to find a signal. I got back here safely, so no harm done. I can't say that for the other guy, though." Pete replied. "It seems they have jammed communication frequencies and prevented us from intercepting or sending calls or texts around the whole building. Same with our earpieces. We don't know where any of our other agents are."

Fitz groaned, bringing his hands to his face. "Any sign of her?" he asked quietly.

"Sir?" Pete asked, eyebrows furrowing. Fitz looked up at him for a moment. Pete's eyes widened.

"Oh- no, sir. I did not see Miss Pope anywhere on the floor."

"Mellie?"

"No sign of the First Lady either, sir."

A sickening feeling of defeat occupied the room as silence fell. Fitz felt powerless. He had no clue what to do. He felt his heart tighten every time he heard a gunshot. He looked at the guns on his agents' hands.

"How much ammo do you both have left?" asked Fitz. The agents looked at each other.

"Hal? Pete?" Fitz said. "Tell me. I can take it."

"I'm afraid sir, after we got into that hell of a crossfire outside, we've spent almost all of our bullets. Had to keep you all safe." Hal said, looking at Fitz and Cyrus, who was now sitting next to Fitz. "We don't think anyone saw your face as we ran into this room, Mr President, or else you would've already been dead." He continued.

Fitz closed his eyes firmly, trying to focus on his breathing. "How- How many people are dead outside, Pete?" Fitz asked, a lump forming in his throat.

Pete's face fell. "Mr President… sir… based on what I've seen so far, there are more people lying on the floor than there are fingers on my hands." He paused. "Not- Not counting the second floor." He added quietly.

Fitz's stomach twisted into a knot. Silence fell once more as they all swallowed that piece of information.

"Their blood are- are on my hands. I'm not gonna let another innocent person's blood be spilt tonight." He rose from his seat. In an instant, Cyrus and the agents reacted. Cyrus quickly grabbed his arm and firmly held him back as the two agents immediately shielded the door.

"Fitz. Fitz, that is out of the question. Out of the question entirely. You are not giving yourself up to those- those maniacs. I won't have it." Cyrus burst out.

"Did- Did you hear wh-"

"Of course, I heard what he said. And I won't hear another second of this ridiculousness. You are not dying tonight, Fitz. The president of the United States is _not_ dying on my watch. No, sir. Nor, is he going to hand himself to those people and pray they won't end up killing the rest of us anyway. We absolutely under any circumstances do not negotiate with terrorists. I don't have to tell you this." He spat.

"That is my people out there, Cy. Every splatter of blood and every scream I heard tonight, every single gunshot I heard was because of me. These people are not messing around. You've seen what they can do, how well trained they are. They're getting restless. Impatient. Nothing is stopping them from killing all those innocent people to find me."

"Not that what we will ever let you do this, but they clearly said you… as well as Mellie."

"I'm doing this alone. She is out of the question. It is my name on that oval office. I have the final say in top-secret meetings. She is not a part of this." He said, in a serious tone. "I have clearly pissed off someone big. I, _I_ did this. This is not her fight."

"And if she gives herself up or gets caught before you?"

"She is not stupid, Cy. Or at least I hope to god she isn't. You know how restless she can be." Fitz muttered. "We have to find her. Her and Olivia."

"Fitz… with all due respect, I don't think we have enough manpower to search for both of them. Now, it is crucial we find out where Mellie is. It's important we know where both of you are and that you are safe. But Olivia, Fitz? She can wait." He drew his face closer. "There are more pressing matters at hand than checking up on your mistress." Cyrus reminded him.

* * *

_To no surprises there, Fitz is alive and well! (...at least, physically i mean...). Thanks for reading everybody :) Thoughtss?_


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